Some Secrets Never Die
by BlackMasquerade
Summary: 14 squadrons and half of NCIS has disappeared. Unable to go it alone, the only agent left waits in a stasis until help arrives in the form of the Enterprise. Will they be able to solve a 2 1/2 centuries old case before it's too late?
1. Prologue

Special Agent Timothy McGee looked down at his hands. He didn't dare blink or the tears would overflow and drench the front of his jacket. They were gone. All of them: Tony, Ziva, Ducky, Palmer, the Boss… Abby. When he thought her name, all his effort to keep was wasted, because the tears fell anyway. Light thuds sounded as the salty tears hit his polyester jacket.

"Agent McGee?" A kind male voice came from the real world and penetrated Tim's little world of sorrow.

He couldn't respond, only looked up at the SecNav with teary eyes.

"Agent McGee, with your permission, we'd like to proceed."

Tim nodded, attempting to compose himself for the long walk to the sub-basement. A top secret government sponsored machine was down there, waiting for him. He didn't know what it was, but he was promised that this thing would help him solve the case that was unfolding before the Navy's eyes.

Fourteen squadrons had disappeared over the course of three weeks. Cleared from existence, no trace could be found of them. No trace… that is except a very unique radioactive signature, that no technology, Naval or governmental, could decipher.

Then, just last week, Director Vance went missing. His wife swore up and down he had been next to her when she'd fallen asleep, but he was gone when she'd woken up. Scientists tested the radiation levels and the signature was identical to that found at the last known locations of the squadrons.

But yesterday had been the worst day of all… The team was headed out to investigate the death of three Marines. McGee had to go back to the office to get a file, and when he got back to the garage, the team was gone. He went to check Abby's Lab and autopsy, but everyone was gone. He was the only one left.

Radioactive testing confirmed: the same kidnappers.

Now, McGee stood in the elevator headed for the sub-basement with the SecNav standing silently at his side.

"What's going to happen to me down there?" McGee finally asked.

The SecNav sighed and stopped the elevator in its tracks.

"Agent McGee… the government has been working on cryogenic technology for years now. We've developed it to such an extent that we can freeze a human being now and in, say, a thousand years, we can thaw that person and have them in full working order." The man said, quite seriously.

"So, we're facing our biggest challenge yet, and all you want to do is test your cryogenic technology on me? Don't we have better things to do?" McGee was dumbfounded. How could they think about testing technology when so many people were missing?

"We're freezing you, Agent McGee, so that you can be thawed at any point in the future when this case is possible to be cracked."

"Okay, fine. How long are you planning for this case to go on?" Tim wasn't in the mood to argue. After losing everyone you care about, you don't care about what happens to you.

The SecNav put a hand on his shoulder. "Not in this lifetime." He turned and switched the elevator back on. The humming of the machinery eased Tim's fears of the future, imminent or otherwise.

As the door whooshed open to reveal a monstrous technological sight before him, McGee looked back to the SecNav.

"What about my sister? My parents?" although his voice was dead with grief, he was scared for them.

"They've been informed, and they agree that it will be beneficial to the case."

McGee took that as Navy code for "_they're torn up but if I told them you wanted to, which you don't, they'd be willing to let it happen."_

Tim was handed a set of clothes that turned out to be a spandex jumpsuit. He was told it wouldn't be destroyed by the freezing process. He nodded and ducked into a supply closet to change, as there were no formal change rooms in the sub-basement.

He emerged and was ushered to a kind of semi-upright coffin. He thought of Abby and her coffin-bed as he climbed in.

He didn't hear the worker bees mumbling to each other about the process. He saw one of them give him an encouraging thumbs up as the door closed.

He barely felt the cold of the substance they encased him in. In fact; it felt warm against his skin, the sorrow had made him so cold already.

He began to panic as he felt his consciousness slip away. He held on to the image of his team as he fell asleep. Everyone: Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, Ducky, Palmer, Abby… even Vance. He _would_ wake up and find them. He would save them.

For good measure, on his "dying" breath he mouthed the one name that meant more to him than the whole team put together: "Abby".


	2. Chapter 1

"Why do I have to talk to the SecNav again?" Captain James T Kirk asked of his Chief Medical Officer who stood next to him.

"Earth's national security, Jim," Leonard McCoy growled back, barely audible to anyone besides the two of them.

"But he's a figurehead! What good…" Kirk began to argue.

"_She_, Jim, _she_. And I don't know what good it is to talk to her, but Admiral Pike said we had to. Said it was important. I'd believe him." Bones growled back.

"What could be so damn import-" Kirk was cut off by Uhura.

"SecNav is hailing us, Captain." She swiveled around gracefully in her chair.

"On screen, Lieutenant." Kirk said with a sigh.

A stunning middle-aged woman came onto the view screen. She had platinum blonde hair tied up in a professional bun, and her blue eyes pierced the screen, seeing into their souls. She had a tight-lipped demeanor: stern, no-nonsense, sharp and efficient. All this could be discerned in less than, as Spock would observe, the four point one five seconds before she began to speak.

"Captain Kirk." She greeted Jim with a stern, high voice.

"Madame Secretary." Kirk responded, trying to sound professional. It was second nature to him to flirt with anything lacking outdoor plumbing, regardless of age. Authority hadn't stopped him before, it wouldn't stop him now. Flirting with her, he could tell, would be different. He would have to be mature and professional, two things that were out of his comfort zone, even though he'd been a starship captain for nearly a year, now.

"Are you aware of the reason we are speaking?" She said, not missing a beat and, by the sound of it sensing his recent pheromone outburst.

"No, ma'am, I am not." He said, silently hoping that came out sounding less smart-assish than it had in his head.

"Two and a half centuries ago fourteen Navy and Marine Corps squadrons went missing without a trace. At the same time, the Director of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service and his most highly recommended team also disappeared.

"The only thing left behind when these groups were kidnapped was a unique, unidentifiable radioactive signature. We've spent the last two hundred and fifty years trying to decipher it, but still to no avail.

"On your ships latest atmospheric diagnostic you picked up a radioactive signature you, understandably, thought to be insignificant. When the readings reached Earth for a second evaluation; it was found to be an exact match to the signatures left behind at the kidnappings." She paused. Kirk wasn't sure whether to apologize for missing something he wasn't looking for, or offer to do something about it. What did it matter anyway? The Marines were like the Royal family: they were still there and that was great, but they didn't really do anything. Starfleet was in command now.

"What exactly do you want us to do, Madam Secretary?" Kirk offered stiffly, hoping he'd said the right thing.

"Dock at Starbase Echo-412. There you will be met by the Director of NCIS and two of her best agents. The agents will accompany you to the planet from which you gained these readings and they will lead the investigation." The Secretary of the Navy answered. Her facial expression hadn't changed the whole time she was talking. Even though the Marine Corps and the Navy hadn't had a serious deal in decades, she seemed to take this role as seriously as if she did it every day. _Must be a Marine thing_. Jim thought.

"What will this investigation entail ma'am? If they've been missing for two and a half centuries, shouldn't they be dead by now?" He asked.

"That's what you need to find out. Alongside these agents you need to find out where these squadrons and agents were taken, what became of them, who took them, why, and, if the circumstances should allow, bring back any survivors."

"Survivors? Ma'am…"

"One of the agents you will be working with was a member of the team that disappeared. He was cryogenically frozen by the United States Government so that he could investigate this case. If he could survive, we're not ruling out the possibility that those men and women could have survived." She sat up straighter in her swiveling chair, although Kirk couldn't figure out how this was possible.

"Aye-aye ma'am." Kirk said, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Good luck, Captain." She said with finality and signed off.

The whole bridge let out a unanimous ex-hale.

"Ensign Chekov," Kirk began his orders for departure to Starbase Echo-412.

"Yes, sir?" Ensign Pavel Andreivich Chekov spun around his chair. His posture slightly slumped over, elbows glued to the armrests of his chair.

"Chart a course for Starbase Echo-412. Lieutenant Sulu," Captain Kirk continued, taking up residence in his chair.

"Captain?" The Japanese lieutenant turned to face his leader.

"As soon as the course is charted, go." Kirk looked to Uhura. "Did we hear any chatter near that planet, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir, as far as I know that whole system is dead, not a soul around." She said, spinning back to face him, posture pristine.

"Alright. I want eyes and ear on it, though, in case anything pops up." Kirk ordered.

"Yes, Captain." Uhura complied and turned around, beginning to fiddle with the command prompts at her station.

"Commander." Kirk looked half over his shoulder, so he could just see his XO out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock replied in a stoic tone.

"Go over the radiation samples again, pinpoint the signature and program that into our database. Once you're done, organize me an away crew, for when we get those agents on board." Kirk said.

"Yes, Captain."Spock replied and began to execute his order.

"Bones." Kirk looked up at his CMO who stood next to him observing the scene.

"What?" Bones removed the knuckle from in front of his lips for a split second to answer.

"I want you to prepare for problems with this frozen guy." Kirk said with unceremonious bluntness.

"What kind 'o problems, Jim?" Bones asked rolling his eyes at the inaccuracy.

"Well, he's been frozen for two and a half hundred years, he might go crazy, he might have organ issues from the thawing or whatever… just, whatever you see fit. I don't him, like, melting or something while we're 'investigating' this planet." He accentuated the word 'investigate' mostly because he was skeptical about the whole situation. Fourteen squadrons and a government team being alive after two and a half centuries? Yeah, right.

"Captain," Spock interjected, "it would be illogical to assume that this agent will 'melt'…"

"You know what I mean." Kirk said waving his first officer back to his work before looking back up at his CMO. "Prepare."

"Yeah," Bones responded with a sigh. Sometimes, his friend was too much. Although he was aware that complications from cryogenic thawing were possible, they were rare. Then again, not many people who had been cryogenically frozen had been thawed yet. But the statistics from the small number of people who had were good, and that was enough persuasion Bones needed to be optimistic about the agent's chances with thawing. "I'll get right on that."


	3. Chapter 2

The space station was low-tech, by 23rd century standards. Very little was voice activated, touch screens were scarce, the programming was up-to-date but that was the only redeeming feature of the sleepy little floating space dock.

The structure was made to look even more insignificant when the Enterprise docked. The newest ship in the fleet was also of the highest technological caliber. It's sleek design screamed 23rd century perfection with a perfectly curved metal exterior and an immaculate interior. The perfect fusion, as the ship's Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott never hesitated to share, of form and function.

Captain Jim Kirk was almost sad to leave the ship along with his Chief Medical Officer and best friend, Doctor Leonard McCoy, and get on the shabby, outdated station. Regardless of the fact that the ship was in dire need of an upgrade, it was also just plain old dirty. A thin layer of dust and filth lay over the whole ship. Jim was certain he was leaving footprints in his wake.

McCoy was doing no better: he was eyeing the dirt encrusted corners of the hull as though he was convinced that whatever was keeping the rickety monument together was going to give way in an instant. This was in fact what he thought, and when a mild creak sounded behind them, coming from nothing more mundane than a technician updating a file on a wheezy touch screen, he jumped, his heart having skipped an entire beat.

"Calm down, Bones, if this thing was going to fall apart it wouldn't still be in operation." What he didn't add was that this was merely an assumption. He was just as worried about the old hunk of junk falling apart as his friend was, and he didn't like that feeling: fear.

"Thanks, Jim, I gathered that." McCoy sniped back, trying not to look as on edge as the two of them knew he was.

A pneumatic door _whooshed_ open and a middle-aged man dressed in a red Starfleet uniform approached the men.

"Captain Kirk?" The man asked.

"_And_ Doctor McCoy." Kirk jerked a thumb in Bones' direction.

"Thanks, Jim." McCoy grumbled, barely audible to even himself.

"Right then. If you gentlemen will follow me, we've got the agents ready for you in here…" The man's distracted voice trailed off as he turned for the door from whence he came and led the two officers through.

"Can we get a name there, pal?" Kirk asked. Not knowing anything about this man made him feel uneasy. Jim Kirk needed to know something about everyone, on the off chance that the person could become an adversary.

"Lieutenant Commander Eli Smith." He said, not looking at Kirk as he said his name.

"You look a little old to be a Lieutenant Commander, Mr. Smith." Kirk said, more of a statement than a speculation.

"Not much room to move up out here." Lieutenant Commander Smith replied simply. Kirk could extrapolate from there: this deep, dark, quiet corner of Federation Space hardly ever saw action. He wouldn't be surprised if saving whoever the Captain of this thing was would promote a guy for fixing the food synthesizer.

"I bet." McCoy said, grumpily. He wasn't bothered by the low-tech state of the ship; in fact it had a certain nostalgia that appealed to the Southern Romantic in him, he didn't even mind the dirt and grime; it reminded him of camping when he was a kid. But the cold atmosphere, the sleepy clientele, and the imminent risk of hull disintegration was beginning to weigh on both his nerves and his temper.

The three officers moved through the nonsensical maze of corridors and passages, up and down turbolifts and through rooms that seemed to have no defined purpose. The more ground they covered on the ship the more Jim began to relate the building to a fun house they had at county fairs: mirrors set up as a maze and you had to find your way in and subsequently find your way out again. Both structures had no point or, as Spock would say, logic to their layouts. It was as if whoever designed the space station was already aware that it would pointlessly floating in space, and decided to give its staff some entertainment with a mazelike layout.

"My God, man, aren't we close yet?" McCoy finally snapped in full grouch mode at the Lieutenant Commander.

"Yes, we are." Mr. Smith pushed a touch screen pin pad and opened a pneumatic door to a surveillance room. There, two more men stood in Starfleet uniforms looking out through what was likely one-sided glass. They stood boredly, their hands clasped behind their backs and disinterested expressions could be seen on their profiles.

"Gentleman, this is Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy." Lieutenant Commander Smith introduced the men. "Doctor Captain this is…"

"Captain Richard Yeomans." One man turned and shook Kirk's hand without hesitation. "I've heard a lot about you, Captain Kirk. Sounds to me like you're the right man for the job."

"I wouldn't be able to do it without my crew." Kirk replied.

After the other man had been introduced as Commander Thomas Henry the five men stood at the window to observe. On the other side of the glass was machinery. Everything in the room was hooked up to a central holding tank containing the frozen figure of a man. He was in his prime, mid- to late thirties, with a tall, sturdy build, though he was by no means athletic. Every contour of his body was being clung to by a durable jumpsuit of high-tech spandex: very top-of-the-line for the 21st century. The man's face was frozen in a look that, initially, looked peaceful. But on further inspection one could observe the hints of despair, loneliness, fear and sadness writ across the features. The back of the jaw was tense, but not the front, the full lips were slightly pursed and turned down at the edges, like he was suppressing a sob. The nostrils were slightly flared, the eyes closed with wrinkles and tension on the lids, like he didn't want to see the cold coming.

A pair of technicians were conversing next to the tank, making sure all the statistics were correct for the thawing process. Kirk had accidentally taken to studying the curve of the female technicians body under her lab coat when the pneumatic door whooshed open behind him.

The five turned to see a human woman dressed in professional civilian clothing walk in. She was strongly built, and lean. Her face was stunning. Round, piercing eyes sat on either side of the bridge of her nose which sloped down her face coming to a point above a thin, red mouth. The entirety of her beautiful angular face was framed by shoulder-length deep chestnut hair.

The brown trousers, patterned sweater, corduroy blazer, and clicky high heels matched the expression on her face. This was a no-nonsense woman and she was on a mission. Kirk made up his mind subconsciously to tread lightly on these volatile waters.

The woman stuck her hand out for any and all to take. "Special Agent Elizabeth Todd. NCIS." She stated, cutting right to the chase.

Kirk was about to give her some subtle charm when McCoy butted in.

"Doctor Leonard McCoy." He said, shaking her hand lightly, like a real gentleman.

"A pleasure." She said with a lukewarm smile.

"Captain James T Kirk," Kirk tried to bring the attention home. As much affection as he felt towards his CMO, he wasn't going to let him get the better of him with a woman. Especially one as elegant as she standing before them. "Captain of the Federation-"

"Starship Enterprise. I know, I read your file." She shook his hand firmly, a sign of self-assuredness and confidence. She was definitely going to an interesting colleague. "Captain, Commander, Lieutenant Commander." She nodded to the other three. By the friendly nod each gave her, Kirk guessed that they had met before. "How is Agent McGee getting along?"

"Well." Captain Yeomans replied as Special Agent Todd approached the glass to watch the frozen man.

"Who is this guy?" Kirk asked.

"This man is Special Agent Timothy McGee. The only head NCIS agent left after the Director, the head NCIS team, the autopsy team and the best forensic scientist in the country were kidnapped. The SecNav at the time thought it wise to cryogenically freeze him until a time when evidence allowed the crime to be solved. That time has come."

"When are we thawing him?" Kirk questioned, looking through the glass at the worker bees working to bring the man back to room temperature.

"Imminently." The Captain heaved a sigh. "I've been informed by the present SecNav that it's my duty to bring you up to speed on the victims."

Kirk turned from the glass to face the other Captain. "Go on."

The older Captain strode lazily to a large touch screen panel that nearly covered the wall adjacent to the glass. He touched the blank surface and it lit up, text and pictures covering the screen. He took a moment to organize the chaos before beginning.

"The kidnappings began with a single Navy squadron; a patrol squadron, the VP-7. The Navy was on red alert from the beginning. They had every investigation service in the country working the case: FBI, CIA, and NCIS to name a few. While they were investigating the first disappearance, two more disappeared. This time: two Fleet Logistics Support squads." As he spoke he pulled up files from the investigations on screen, highlighting dates, times and empty slots for evidence. He also pulled up photographs of the squadrons and of the work they did. "They were the VR-2 and -47-"

"You can just give me the designations later." Kirk wasn't sure why the Captain thought he would remember these numbers let alone the letters that went with them.

"Of course." The Captain turned to Lieutenant Commander Smith. "Get him a PADD with all this on it, sounds like he'll need it."

Kirk sensed a mocking tone but he decided not to pursue it.

"Anyway, in the following months the numbers began to climb at an alarming rate. Three Strike Fighter squads on week, a Fleet Air Recon squad and a Fleet Fighter Comp the next. Then, things died down for a while. The whole country was busy trying to figure something out from the zero evidence they had. After two months the only lead they had accumulated was a trace radio-active signature left at the kidnap sites, barely readable, but unique nonetheless." He pulled up the specs on the signature. By 23rd century standards, the signature looked pretty normal. Then again, the advances made in nuclear technology and radioactive sciences had grown nearly tenfold in the last two centuries. "Then, out of the blue, seven squadrons disappeared: three each Carrier Tactical Electronic Warfare squads, and Carrier Airborne Early Warning squads, topped off with a Helicopter Anti-Submarine squadron."

He emphasized the last squad as if it held some huge importance.

Kirk simply responded: "Okay."

Captain Yeomans rolled his eyes much the same way Bones usually did when Kirk was obtuse, intentionally or otherwise.

"Anti-sub technology was a huge security and military weapon. If some other country got hold of that technology, the United States was open to attack from every direction but Canada." Judging by Kirk's _yeah, so?_ expression, Yeomans decided to just get on with it.

"So, after compiling the nuclear signatures, the U.S. decided to point fingers at Russia," Kirk felt a certain _sewenteen_-year-old ensign's back straighten all the way back on the Enterprise. That kid was patriotic to a fault, sometimes. "Russia didn't like that."

_Points for Chekov_. Kirk thought with a mental chuckle. _Chekov wouldn't like that either._

"So, the U.S. and Russia started arguing like it was the Cold War all over again. Arms were set up ready to fire at the command of the president of either country.

"The case was handed to NCIS. More specifically: to their top forensic scientist, Abigail Sciuto," he pulled up the photo of an attractive young woman. She wore her black hair up in pigtails and her stunning green eyes were rimmed with black. Her jarring appearance was topped with red lipstick.

"Miss Sciuto deduced that the radioactive signature was nearly impossible to generate, using the scientific methods known at the time. With her advice, the U.S. stood down against Russia.

"That's when NCIS was hit. An entire team, the medical examiner, his assistant and Miss Sciuto disappeared." He pulled up the pictures of a hard looking middle aged man, a mischievous younger man, a beautiful woman who looked to be of Israeli descent, a kindly looking older gentleman, and a young man who looked to have the same happy-go-lucky demeanor as Ensign Chekov. He lined the photos up next to Abigail Sciuto's. "This is Special Agent in Charge Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Special Agent Ziva David, Doctor Donald Mallard and James Palmer, respectively. They all disappeared a week after this man:" He pulled up a final picture of a no-nonsense African American man, middle aged, commanding looking. "This is NCIS Director Leon Vance.

"The only NCIS agent from this elite team is Timothy McGee." Yeomans looked over his shoulder and through the glass at Agent McGee.

"Captain Kirk, you will be taking Agent McGee and Agent Todd onto your ship. They will conduct the investigation from there." Yeomans finished.

"Okay. How can we be certain they're alive?" Kirk asked.

"We can't be. But this case needs closing. Captain, if intel. from Earth's old security measures is in the hands of an alien race they have the capability of extrapolating from that the measures now taken by Starfleet. Contrary to popular belief: they're not that different. Starfleet's entire existence rides on the coattails of the United States Marine Corps and the United States Navy. You are helping to rescue and protect the future and existence of Starfleet, Captain Kirk." Yeomans said.

"Great. I feel a lot better about this now," Kirk muttered under his breath.

"Jim!" McCoy called from the window. "They're thawing him!"

The Captains hurried to the window to watch. The technicians on the other side buzzed hurriedly from console to console shouting muffled commands and statistics back and forth. Steam rose from the tube, as the contents slowly melted away to leave behind the figure inside. As suddenly as the commotion had begun, it ceased. The technicians stepped back, though they looked ready to pounce should something go wrong.

The case stopped steaming. The man inside stayed frozen. After several seconds, Kirk was convinced he was dead.

"Poor bastard," Bones muttered.

Then the man seized, his eyes burst open revealing sea foam irises, pupils completely dilated. He heaved his breaths, grasping to get a hold on reality, on what was happening to him.

Both _Enterprise_ crew members understood the look of horror, fear, and anguish writ across the young features. This man was discombobulated, and he didn't like it.

The technicians scurried to open the door, satisfied with the results. But when the hatch lifted, Timothy McGee started flailing. He fought against the restraints that bound his shoulders, hips and thighs to the inside of the tube. When the technicians tried to calm him he began screaming.

The words were unintelligible at first, but as soon as they turned into few-syllable words Kirk caught a few of them and recognized them as names of his missing team: "Gibbs! Tony! Ziva! Ducky! Jimmy! Abby! Abby! Abby!"

The five men and Agent Todd watched him struggle and scream and fight the bonds and the technicians.

"Oh my God…" Agent Todd gasped putting a perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. Kirk could see the tears of compassion and empathy flooding her vision.

Finally, Timothy McGee stopped struggling and simply collapsed into his sorrow, his grief, and his tears. The technicians deemed it safe to withdraw him from the tank and take him to another location. He was as limp as a wet noodle and had to have his arms draped over the shoulders of the technicians and be dragged into an adjoining room they could not see.

The group took a moment to absorb the emotional state of the distraught agent.

"I hate to ask," Kirk broke the silence, "but… is he fit to work a mission?"

"Technically it's a case…" Captain Yeomans began.

"Yeah, right," Kirk interrupted.

"We shall see." Yeomans looked to McCoy. "You will examine him and make final judgement."

"Lucky me." McCoy growled, dissatisfied with the arrangements.

"Well then, gentleman, shall we?" Commander Henry suggested.

The six exited the room, leaving the room dark, lit only by the ancient steaming cryogenic tube on the other side of the glass.


	4. Chapter 3

Lieutenant Commander Smith led the group down the hallway before turning into a secondary hallway. From there, they all squished into a turbolift. The ancient machine was slow, but it managed to reach their destination.

When the pneumatic doors whooshed open, they revealed a vast medical bay. Kirk and McCoy were slightly jarred by the sight. The medical bay was surprisingly up-to-date for the rest of the vessel.

Sleek consoles stood next to neat biobeds, some with patients, most without. The white light gleamed off of every immaculately polished surface, threatening to blind anyone who looked at it for too long.

At the end of the long bay a sizable queue of nurses was huddled around a bed. Kirk could make out one of the two technicians who had been tending to Special Agent Timothy McGee in their number.

"Doc's here." Smith called abruptly, causing the hive to scatter. The technicians handed over their PADDS containing the data from the procedure, nodded a greeting, and left without saying a word.

McCoy shook his head, furrowed his brow and scanned the PADD.

Kirk took the opportunity to look at the man lying on the biobed. He looked old enough, early thirties, late twenties. He was staring with blank eyes at the metallic ceiling. The soft skin around his eyes was slightly enflamed from the crying he'd done a few minutes ago, though now all traces of the tears were gone.

Kirk guessed he had just been washed; the smell of disinfectant and a mild soap wafted off of his skin. He had a smooth face, something the slightly pockmarked Captain found himself thinking jealous thoughts about.

The Agents hair lay smooth and orderly on his head. Kirk guessed the freezing had halted the hair growth, because no one grows that little hair in a period of a hundred and fifty years.

He lay on the biobed uncovered, save his clothes. He wore light grey sweat pants and a rather tight white t-shirt. A sturdy frame was visible under the cloth; he wasn't ripped by any stretch of the imagination, but Kirk could tell that he wouldn't be taken down too easily in a hand-to-hand fight.

Finally Kirk's eyes fell on the man's hands. _Since when do guys get manicures?_ Kirk thought.

Bones pulled his tricorder from his belt and began scanning the Agent from head to toe and back again, checking for any sign of physical malfunction. He made grunting sounds every now and then, finally raising his eyebrow to a height that could easily rival Spock's.

"What's up, Bones?" Kirk asked.

"For a twenty-first century job, this isn't half bad. He'll live, for one thing. He doesn't appear to be suffering from any kind of diseases, not even hypothermia. His muscle tissue has suffered mild deterioration at the muscle core, which can be fixed up easily enough with a few doses of protein and little exercise. His brain patterns are a little slow, but that should pick up as he gains his bearings." He half laughed. "Dammit, I'm almost impressed."

Kirk smiled. Special Agent Todd rolled her eyes and went to sit next to Timothy McGee's head.

"Timothy? Can you hear me?" She asked, her voice soft.

He nodded. "You can call me Tim… I'd prefer – woah." He turned to look at her and his facial expression changed, like he'd seen a ghost. Kirk thought he saw him mouth something, but he wasn't sure. The two agents sat in silence for a moment. Tim's lips moved again, soundless: "Kate?" His eyes were searching her face for an answer.

"Tim, my name is Elizabeth Todd, you can call me Liz, okay?" she said, sympathy pouring from her features.

Tim nodded, still looking incredulous.

"Tim, do you know where you are?" Liz asked, voice still soft.

He swallowed hard. "The future?"

"Yeah, yeah you are." Liz said, looking relieved that he knew. Kirk wondered why she cared so much. She was probably just one of those women who cared about everyone.

Tim looked around the medical bay, still dazed. The future was amazing: everything was bright, although that might just be a side effect of the century and a half encased in a frozen tube. Everything looked so high-tech, so new, and so ready to explored by this outsider. For a moment he forgot about the mission at hand, he forgot about his missing team; his missing friends. For a moment, he was a kid again.

"What year is it?" He asked.

"Twenty-two fifty-nine." Liz responded, grinning at his sudden enthusiastic turn for the better.

"Twenty-two fifty-nine? Woah…" He paused, licking his lips in anticipation. "Am… am I on a space ship?"

"Sort of…" Liz began.

"You're on Starbase Echo-412, son." Captain Yeomans puffed his chest out. "I'm Captain Richard Yeomans. Welcome to the future, Special Agent McGee."

"A starbase?" Tim lay back into his pillow, overwhelmed. "Awesome."

"Uh, yeah, awesome." Kirk said. He leaned over to Bones. "I can't wait to see what he says about the _Enterprise_."

Bones grunted in agreement.

"Special Agent McGee, I'm Captain James T. Kirk, of the Federation Starship _Enterprise_. The _Enterprise_ is the ship you'll be working out of." Kirk said reaching down to shake the man's hand. It was a little weak, and judging by the look of this it wasn't going to get much better.

"A starship?" McGee said. All he could do was sigh. This was so amazing. But even though there was so much new around him, the weight of his assignment settled itself back onto his shoulders. "If you got me out of… whatever I was in, does that mean that you've found them?"

"Your team, Agent McGee, has not yet been found." Captain Yeomans said, rather unhelpfully.

"Why is the case still open after all these years?" McGee asked.

"This case is the highest profile case the Navy ever encountered. As soon as the Navy was disbanded it fell on Starfleet's shoulders to execute an investigation when the appropriate circumstances arose." Special Agent Todd cut in.

"I guess those circumstances arose." McGee said.

Todd just nodded.

"What happened? Do you know if they're still alive?" McGee looked like he was trying to be hopeful but it wasn't working.

"We don't know if they're alive." Todd said. "Do you remember the radioactive signatures found at the disappearance sites?"

"Yeah, we'd never seen anything like it before." McGee said, sitting up a little. "Why? Has something else gone missing?"

"Not that we're aware of. But during a mission one of Starfleet's ships came across a patch of space with atmospheric readings containing the same radioactive signature." She said. "We woke you up in the event that this was the break in the case."

"Alright." McGee wasn't quite sure how to process the information. All he knew for sure was: he was in space, he was in the future, and he just might get to see his friends again. "How can we be sure that is really the break in the case?"

"This particular signature's only been seen once before: at the time of the kidnappings." Todd answered.

"We should probably get him to the ship," Kirk broke in. "You know, get him settled and stuff."

"But he hasn't seen the rest of my ship yet!" Captain Yeomans protested. Obviously this guy didn't get nearly as many visitors as he'd like.

"I want to get started on the investigation right away." McGee said with finality.

"Then let's not waste time." Kirk said, eager to get off the ship and back to his own state-of-the-art vessel.

**Author's Note**

My apologies that this chapter is so short. It's been sitting in my saved files in this state for several months, I've been intending to extend it but I can't find the inspiration to continue the chapter, so I guess a short chapter will do just as well. That, and I feel horrible for not having updated in some time. Again, my heart-felt apologies for not posting (school has been **very** busy) and for the shortness of this chapter. Enjoy anyway!


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